


Hope I'm not tired of rebuilding / ’Cause this might take a little more

by StarchildOfParis



Category: Anastasia - Flaherty/Ahrens/McNally
Genre: F/M, Family, Light Angst, Missing Scene, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-09
Updated: 2019-02-09
Packaged: 2019-10-24 18:37:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17709407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarchildOfParis/pseuds/StarchildOfParis
Summary: “Your Highness.”Anya can’t respond. She wonders if she’s still asleep, but Dmitry, headstrong, reckless, proud Dmitry, iskneelingbefore her and she knows she couldn’t conjure that up even in a dream so she must face the truth.*Missing moment after "In a Crowd of Thousands."





	Hope I'm not tired of rebuilding / ’Cause this might take a little more

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Arms Unfolding" by dodie.  
> I needed more Dimya (especially now that the show is closing!) so I decided to write some. It's my first fanfic, and it's unbetaed so feedback is welcome and appreciated!  
> I do not own Anastasia, its characters, or dodie's lyrics. Just having some fun.

“Your Highness.”

Anya can’t respond. She wonders if she’s still asleep, but Dmitry, headstrong, reckless, proud Dmitry, is _kneeling_ before her and she knows she couldn’t conjure that up even in a dream so she must face the truth. She is Anastasia. She has not been lied to, her Nana is really waiting for her in this very city, and the man who claimed he would never bow to anyone again is here at her feet, declaring her his princess.

Even though he was ready to kiss her only a moment before.

Anya knows that Dmitry, despite his apparent disregard for any and all forms of authority, follows his own rules, and somehow, she doubts that falling in love with a princess is allowed. So, she stares, the ghosts still swirling in the back of her mind, trying to come to terms with this sudden rift between them and the fact that the kiss will not come. No matter how much the princess in question wishes it would.

Still unable to speak, Anya realizes that, in these last few minutes, she has finally found her old family. But she may have lost part of her new one.

That thought finally jolts her into action. Dmitry may be stubborn, but so is she, and she refuses to let him distance himself from her.

“Please stand up.”

After a moment’s pause, he rises, but doesn’t meet her eyes.

“Anastasia. I should –”

“Anya,” she interrupts. “I am still Anya.” Because she is. These new memories don’t erase the girl who bickered with him across most of Europe, helped him fight off drunk vagrants in in a Petersburg alley, and followed him to view their city from the sky. And she’ll be damned if they erase this friendship. This thing that might be more than a friendship.

But he’s still not looking at her, so she should probably focus on that first.

“Now I know that I really will see my grandmother tomorrow. And thank you for that, thank you for helping me remember and thank you for your… respect. But nothing else is different, Dmitry.” At his name, his eyes finally meet hers. “I spent so long unsure about my place in the world. I know you know what that’s like. And I’m not much surer about it now. My Nana could still reject me. We can’t go back to Russia. But with you… and Vlad,” she tacked on quickly, “I finally started to feel like I belonged somewhere. So, don’t think you can desert me now. I’m scared, Dmitry, I am scared of this new life and these old memories and my one chance to find my family and I need you. Not watching from a distance like when we were children. Royalty or not, I need you _here_.”

By the time she’s done speaking, Anya is surprised to see the brightness in Dmitry’s eyes. Or maybe that’s due to the tears she suddenly realizes have slipped down her own cheeks. And when did she get so much closer to him? She takes a deep breath and tentatively reaches out her hand, inviting him to say something, to hold her again, to do anything other than turn and walk away.

For a few seconds she is worried he will do just that. But finally, Dmitry grasps her hand with both of his and bends his head to kiss it with such gentleness that she nearly sobs. When he looks up again, she realizes she was right about those tears.

“I’ll see you tomorrow. Anya.”

Dmitry smiles slightly, and Anya responds in kind. She lets him drop her hand and retreat from her room, watching until he slips into the hallway and closes the door. Then, she glances at her bed, sighs, grabs a blanket, and withdraws to the window to gaze at Paris, glowing under the night sky. She needs some time to think, to prepare herself to face the morning. There were no promises made tonight, she knows, but maybe it’s time to make one of her own. She has a family by blood and a family by choice, and, as the City of Light seems to pulse along with her heartbeat, Anya vows that she will finish this journey with both families beside her.


End file.
